


On a Winter’s Day

by Ohmygodnighttroll



Category: Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985) & Related Fandoms, Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: A Christmas Miracle!, And yearning my dudes, Canon Era, Christmas fic, F/M, Gilbert’s kind of a little shit, Happy Christmas Adam, Happy Christmas Eve Eve, Kindred Spirits Advent Calendar, and there’s pining, no beta we die like men, ¿Que pasa Mufasa?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28279635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohmygodnighttroll/pseuds/Ohmygodnighttroll
Summary: The Avonlea schoolchildren welcome in the holidays with a town wide game of manhunt. But sooner or later snowballs are thrown, and romance blossoms? Anything can happen if you let it.My internet went out and I had to finish this on my phone so please judge accordingly. Day 24 of the Kindred Spirits Advent Calendar. Have some Shirbert flirting fluff!
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52
Collections: Kindred Spirits Advent Calendar





	On a Winter’s Day

The crisp clean air and blanket of newly fallen snow heralds in the arrival of the Christmas season for the people of Avonlea. As men prepare their farms for spring, and the women busy themselves with baking and sewing, the children are left with an inordinate amount of free-time. What better way to welcome the holidays than by a game of manhunt in the woods?

They meet at the schoolhouse, and divide into teams. The bell is rung to signal to start the game and the children race off into the distance, the crisp air stinging their cheeks and chapping their lips. Some take off towards the cliff, others towards the town. Gilbert Blythe takes off towards the woods with the intent of hiding until he catches a streak of red and follows it instead, Anne’s hair acts like a beacon and Gilbert tracks her until she disappears into a copse of trees.

He doesn’t know how long he spends following her footprints in the snow. Every now and then he hears the ringing of the school bell, signaling that someone had been found. Finally he sees her bright blue hair ribbon— the one Matthew had gotten her to match her new blue winter coat hanging off of a nearby bush.

“Found you!” He cries, kneeling down pulling back the bushes he is sure Anne is hiding behind. But she is nowhere to be seen, the blue ribbon the only remnant that she had been there. Gilbert stands up alert, shoving the ribbon into his pocket. His eyes scan the nearby brush and trees.  
“Where’d you go, Anne?” Gilbert calls to the trees. She couldn’t have gotten far. A giggle, bright and musical like the tinkling of a bell captures his attention. He turns in the direction it came from and sees Anne take off again. He bolts after her, she is faster than him but not by much.

Anne’s long legs stretch out in front of her, pushing her faster and further in front of him. Her hair tumbles from its neat plait without the security of her hair ribbon and streams out behind her like a banner. She turns to look behind her just once, then puts on more speed.

Even with the wind and the thick blanket of snow, Gilbert finds himself sweating from the exertion. By the time he catches up to Anne, he has casted off his scarf and his coat has been unbuttoned all the way down.

Anne and Gilbert race for the belltower that serves as home base, whoever gets there first wins the game. Their schoolmates cheer as the two sprint towards the finish line. Gilbert is right on her heels, if he can just—

He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but Gilbert reaches out and wraps his arms around Anne’s waist lifting her off her feet and carrying the final few feet. Anne screams with laughter and kicks her feet with no avail.

“Gilbert Blythe, you cad!” Anne shrieks. Her eyes flashing with fury. “How dare you manhandle me to ensure your own victory?!”

Gilbert shrugs, not allowing Anne’s temper to spoil his fun. “Technically, we touched base at the same time, so you could say we tied.”

“No! I would have won fair and square if you hadn't grabbed me!” Anne says stamping her foot.

Gilbert merely shrugs again, “But I did.”

He turns, ready to head home amidst the setting sun. Fat, fluffy snowflakes have started to fall, and Gilbert catches a few in his hand.

“Do not walk away from me when I’m talking to you, Gilbert Blythe!” Anne shouts behind him. Gilbert almost laughs as he is reminded of another winter day when he did everything in his power to get Anne to talk to him, and had been awarded a slate to the head for his troubles.

He is unprepared for the snowball that hits him squarely in the back of the head—mere centimetres away from the slate scar. He turns to see Anne’s arm still held aloft from releasing the snowball.

“Don’t start something you cannot finish, Miss Shirley.” He warns.

Anne answers with a second snowball, this one hitting him in the chest. _Well, I did warn her._

The battle that follows is one the children in Avonlea talk about for years to come. Though Gilbert and Anne are the ones to begin it, before long everyone is involved in an all out war with no clear battle lines or alliances.

Gilbert and Anne are focused on their own battle, each giving as good as they get. An opportunity presents itself to Gilbert. This time, instead of a snowball, he shakes a tree branch, sending a wave of snow down Anne’s back in the open space between her coat and her dress.

Her surprised scream fills her ears. Gilbert laughs, full of mirth. Heis about to launch another attack when Anne’s arms wrap around Gilbert’s middle and sends them both tumbling to the ground. They grapple, each trying to gain the upper hand. Gilbert feels his weight shift, and suddenly he is flat on his back with Anne above him.

He stares at her, and finds her staring back. Neither of them look away. His breathing is heavy, but that is just the exertion, isn’t it? Her cheeks are flushed pink, but that has to be from the cold, right?

Anne’s hair frames their faces like a curtain. Gilbert’s throat goes dry as he realizes just how close their faces are. His heart is beating wildly, and it’s like every beat is her _name. Anne. Anne. Anne. Anne._ She is sitting astride his hips and her lower lip is between her teeth. And for the first time Gilbert realizes that he wishes it was his lip between her teeth. That he wants to kiss her. That he could kiss her. All he had to do is close the distance between their faces…

Something breaks the pair out of their stupor. They burst up and apart, brushing the snow off of themselves. Anyone who may have noticed them on the ground do not say so. Most are too caught up in the war still raging on to be concerned.

Gilbert takes the long way home from the schoolhouse to avoid any residual awkwardness with Anne. His fist clenches around the ribbon in his pocket. Tomorrow Anne would find the ribbon wrapped around a spray of camellias and winter roses—freshly picked by Gilbert from Hester Gray’s garden. There is no note, but she knows they’re from him. And she’s not quite certain how to feel about it.


End file.
